The Gold on His Finger
by SYNdicate 930
Summary: AU. On his finger he wore a plain gold ring. Sitting on his long finger between his pinky and middle, extravagant and glamorous as he, it was a blatant sign of sorts that screamed to me; he belonged to someone, but she was dead. Rating will go up. Aokise. HIATUS (info on why on profile)
1. And Away I Go

**Title:** The Gold on His Finger.  
**Author:** SYNdicate 930.  
**Summary:** AU. On his finger he wore a plain gold ring. Sitting on his long finger between his pinky and middle, extravagant and glamorous as he, it was a blatant sign of sorts that screamed to me; he belonged to someone, but she was dead. Rating might go up.

**Note:** IT IS IMPORTANT YOU GO LOOK OVER THE LYRICS TO 'PLAIN GOLD RING'. The versions I know of are from Nina Simone and Kimbra—Either are fine, and I suggest you read the lyrics. Also, I've read different things about police officer hours online, so, if something seems off, I'm gomen "OTL. I apologize for mistakes (seeing as past-tense and first person aren't my forte) But, either way, please tell me what you think?

**Chapter 1: And away I go.**

I couldn't breathe, wrapped up in the blistering heat of yet another summer. My uniform clung to my skin, and I looked like a sweaty mess in all black. Sometimes I would wonder who was the wise-guy who decided to make our uniforms black, but then I would realize police officers wouldn't look at all intimidating in something colored and bright.

Black. Darkness, often perceived as sort of force capable of inflicting pain and misery wherever it so wishes, an entity not to be messed with, incapable of being stopped or repressed. I guessed the color black made us look tougher, and that's probably what they wanted for us. But, judging by the way I've frightened people with my height, muscles, and bored scowl, I thought I was already doing a good job at looking the part.

Strolling down the sidewalk with two cold cans of Coke, I pressed them against my burning face and neck and reached for the door of my cop car. Technically, it wasn't mine—it was headquarter's, but I preferred to call it my own. I almost loved it more than my own car, really. The window of the backseat where we kept people we would bring down to the station was cracked, a long white scar from the guy we were sent to bring in, who decided to try and break out by kicking at the window like a mad man. I would have to remember and get it fixed before the next crazy guy breaks it down completely. Like most men, my car was my baby, and just seeing the little blemish on the window made my eye twitch.

The car door was locked. I tapped against the window when I realized my keys were inside to keep the interior cool. I watched as Kagami jolted awake, and unlock my side of the car. Before stepping in, I tossed him his drink, watching him fumble around foolishly in an exhausted haze while I hopped in, icy wind greeting me with opened arms, the air conditioning cranked up as high as it would go just the way I liked it. A common misconception growing up was that I was a summer-boy, in love with the blazing sun and humid temperatures, my dark skin some sort of false indication, while I stood the opposite. I hated summer. I adored winter and the feel of snow crunching under my feet and snow against my warm fingers, melting instantaneously, and refreshing feeling after stepping out from my heated apartment or headquarters into the chilling bite of December, cold breezes and snowflakes brushing against my face. Sun-kissed skin? Mine was sun-ravished, but that was irrelevant.

"Oi, no sleeping." I closed the door and slouched into my seat, flicking the sides of my can before opening it. I had learned it apparently gets rid of fizz. Science was never my forte, so I didn't understand the logic behind it, but it always seemed to work for me, and I never risked it. Especially in the cop car.

Kagami yawned and rubbed at his eyes, deep, dark bags indicating a lack of sleep. He'd been growing more and more tired as of recently, and I had no idea why. The man did not have any sort of worries or health problems that kept him up at night, but it appeared that he'd been getting less sleep with each passing day. "Stuff's been happening with Kuroko." He said as he rolled his neck from shoulder to shoulder.

I took a sip of my Coke and watched a dark hickey come into view where his pulse was. I snorted. "I can see. I never thought you'd ever take it from him, though."

Kagami's cheeks were left aflame, reddened with a blush as crimson as his hair and irises. He stopped his stretching to fix me with furrowed brows, and an embarrassed, loud cry, "Hey, it's not like that at all!"

"I'm not judging you…" I snorted. "Too much."

Kagami yelled at me a little more, but, surprisingly enough, it turned into white noise in the background as I pulled out my cellphone. Normally, we aren't allowed things such as mobiles and iPods on duty, but, when you're as sneaky as Kagami and I, you find ways of not getting caught. There was an unread text on my old-fashioned flip-phone, and I hurriedly clicked the 'read' option. It was from Kise.

_**Heeey wanna catch a movie later?**_

I took another sip as I answered back.

_**Sure, should we meet there or do you want me to pick you up**_

Before I even had the chance to put my phone down, I was already bombarded with an answer to my text. Kise was the type to answer as quickly as possible; he said that he didn't like leaving people hanging, especially when it came to me. I was impatient, and anybody who knew me well enough would know that I did not like waiting.

_**Come over I still have to change, some little boy spilled juice on my shirt**_

_**Okay, see you then.**_

"Hey, are you listening to me." Kagami asked.

"No."

**—****-—****-—****-—**

Kise Ryouta.

He was the type of person who loved to smother the people he cared about with child-like affection and possessed such a youthful glow in the way he would smile from ear to ear when he was happy, pout petulantly like a boy denied his favorite toy when he didn't get what he want or when Tetsu would ignore him, and contagious laugh that would rip from between his pink lips, that I'd forget he was older than me. To my blatant and expected surprise, Kise was born in June of 1988, while I was born a few years after in the summer of 1992. I never took him to be more than a couple months older when we first me. If anything, with that energy and childish sort of innocence and immaturity and face, I had subtracted a few years off his actual age, assuming I was his senior by the same amount of time he was mine. Every time we were placed together, people would always think I was older than him. Whether that was in a good way or in a bad way, I was never sure, really.

I always worked day shifts from 5:00 AM to 2:00 PM, which always gave me two hours to do whatever before seeing Kise. Pacing around my modestly furnished apartment, I went about my after-work ritual of cooking myself a little something to eat, listen to the TV that would provide me with some sort of filter to help ease away the eerie silence and low humming of my empty home, all the while trying to keep myself cool by cranking up the air conditioning, and stripping out of my thick work clothes into something much more comfortable.

The scent of fried rice and chicken filled my apartment and I ate by myself in the living room in front of the TV. As usual, nothing interesting was on to watch—not even on the kid's channels, and that was rather depressing. Kiddie television shows were always my last resort when nothing else was on. Typically, most people were still stuck at work or school, making this prime time for re-runs and crappy shows, barely on air if it weren't for the few suckers who insist on watching. None of it was very interesting or the least be entertaining, sappy dramas with vapid endings I could already predict with characters as deep as a tear drop, and mediocre actors and actresses. Though, the boobs on the lady on channel 15 were pretty nice.

I usually turned to the sports channel for something amusing, but there was nothing on but a baseball game. I was always a basketball sort of guy, and this game held little to absolutely none of my attention. When I was done eating, I washed my dishes and dumped the leftover rice and chicken I didn't get to in a small container to eat later before bed. Feeling satisfied and full I hopped onto my beaten in couch and napped for an hour before getting ready to pick Kise up from work. This was typically how I spent my free time without him; eating and loafing around. Don't let my body fool you. Being lazy was sort of my thing when I wasn't out chasing people down or beating the shit out of someone, but that _rarely_ ever happened. The last person I had gotten into a fight with was Kagami, and that was when we got bored in the cop car and decided to play shot for shot until we both called it quits. I fell asleep with Kise on my mind.

Kise and I saw each other every day. If not, he would make us video chat online because I didn't own a shiny, incredibly breakable iPhone like him. Personally, I liked my old flip phone. For one thing, it was durable, which matched well with the fact that I was prone to breaking, throwing, and smashing things whenever I was mad, and it was impossibly simple, like me. Not to mention I never had to pay for stupid things like data and apps like Kise did. As long as it worked, I was okay with it.

After waking up to the loud, shrill ring of my cellphone, I slipped into what the guys at headquarters, Kagami, and I like to call 'civilian clothes' and disabled my alarm on my cellphone before it went off a second time. It was accurate and we were sure that was what other cops called dressing up normally, but we liked the way it rolled off the tongue as if we were special—Like spies incognito in those stupid action movies Kise and I were so fond of. Come to think of it, that was probably what he had planned for us to watch. Either that or some sap comedy girls usually took their boyfriends to watch with them, who would roll their eyes and groan because those storylines tended to be vague and lacked any sort of legitimate plot or elements used to create a worthwhile film.

I was a huge critic when it came to movies and TV, but was entertained with watching idols on music channels. Either way, cheesy romance movies weren't for me, but I would bear with it, as always, for Kise. He should be thankful.

The drive to the elementary Kise taught at with Kuroko was quiet and filled with lots of yawning and my favorite idols singing on my beat up radio, my car having been through a lot through the past two or so years I've had it for, nostalgia lining their flowing words softly as older songs from the time I'd met Kise came on one at a time. I didn't lose myself in my thoughts very often, only ever saving moments like that for when I was alone like on drives like this. Drumming my fingers against the steering wheel counting off-beats with one hand, my other hand counting right on the beat, I hummed softly and mouthed a few lines to myself. Songs like these always made me think back to when we met.

I first saw Kise the day Tetsu dragged me to work with him. Tetsu was doing some sort lesson on various kinds of jobs to his class of first graders, and asked me to do a small presentation about being a cop. I was never good with kids, Tetsu and Satsuki could always hold me to that. Just being within 10 feet of a baby would set them off into a raucous sobbing and me into insanity. I never did like the sound of babies (or children in general) crying.

Because I felt the need to bring along some back up, I brought Kagami with me. At the time, Kagami was a mere 18 year old boy, who'd thrown away his brains and history of accelerated classes, his intellect going as far as to help him graduate early and skip two or three grades (I couldn't remember), just to become an officer. He was an idiot at giving up the chance to do bigger things in life than be an officer, and I always told him. Sometimes he would shrug it off with a 'I'd rather do this', but that stopped me from reminding him in the future.

I later understood the reason Kagami's face was so red wasn't because of the weather or the fact that he would have to be talking in front of children and their parents, the boy having some sort of fear of speaking in front of others, but as a result of Tetsu. Sometimes I liked to think that I was the reason they ended up together because, if it weren't for me bringing the redhead along or introducing them, they probably would have never found each other or that happiness they had created together as a result of me.

Pulling up to the school, I slowed down considerably so as to not cause any sort of accidents. One could never be too careful in elementary areas, where kids roamed the streets so freely and sometimes without any supervision; a lawsuit waiting to happen, really. I was admittedly a horrifyingly reckless driver, so I could never pay too much attention to the road. Saying goodbye to who I assume are his students and their parents by the front doors, I came to a slow stop and called out to him, my window rolled down as a warm breeze swept up against my cheeks, watching him strut his ways over to the car in a confident manner, nodding and waving at the students and teachers littered between the both of us as he drew nearer.

He ran around the front of my car into the passenger seat with a smile as I turned down the music. As routine, Kise greeted me with an incredulously charming smile, and light-hearted "Aominecchi!" I had grown fondly accustomed to, as well as the manner in which he flipped his honey colored hair, pressed his palm to his mouth as he yawned, rolled his head from shoulder to shoulder restlessly, or to relax his tense muscles, the highs and lows to his voice when he spoke; from the man's head to his toes were complete perfection to which I'd been unbelievably able to deny myself the massive urge to jump and then ravish fully. I wanted all of him, but—as long as he wore that stupid little thing—there was no way of making him mine. It flashed in the corner of my eyes as he brought down the visor mirror to check his already in-place hair.

"I still need to change my shirt. Can we stop by my place?" My eyes fell to the red stain on his white shirt. I had almost forgotten.

I snorted and we began to drive away from the school. "Oh? Is it your time of the month? Eh, little Kise-chan's growing up so fast."

He face contorted into one of slight embarrassment. "What—one of my students spilled juice on me, and I'm a guy!"

"I thought you were supposed to bleed down there—"

"Aominecchi!"

"Yeah, yeah." I lifted a finger to point. "Oi, you forgot your seatbelt." I know, even I was capable of safety precautions.

"Anyway, do you want to go see a movie right away, or does Aominecchi want to eat after I'm done changing?" He asked, tugging on his seat belt and securing it in the little rectangular slot beside his thigh and then turning up the visor mirror to look outside through the windshield.

I paused to think.

"I'm craving something sweet, so can we stop by somewhere to eat?" He looked to me pleadingly. "Please?"

Even though I had just eaten just a while ago, the thought of food was never unappealing. There were various restaurants and cafés in the area between his place and the movie theatre, and I was suddenly craving some coffee. "Sure, where were you thinking?"

"Let's go see Murasakibaracchi!" Kise cheered. "He makes the best pastries!"

As Kise rambled off about the cute little boys and girls in his class and the stuff they did in class today, I turned a few corners and came to a slow stop as I parked in front of his apartment complex just 12 minutes away. We walked up to the second floor through the front entrance, and then straight down the hall towards his familiar white door, just a few feet away from the other exit that lead to the parking lot.

Kise's apartment was one of those modern ones you would always see in catalogs or on TV, where everything was shiny and metallic looking. I was blinded by it the first time I came over. It was hands-down more spacious than mine.

While Kise walked off into his bedroom, I found myself still slipping off my shoes and then lying on my back on his couch in the living room. It was pretty and expensive looking, but it was nowhere near as comfy as I initially thought it was. I had found out in the most innocent (and _boring_) way that it was just like his bed; great to look at, but not as great to sleep on. But I didn't get up, already too comfortably positioned on my back as I reached for the remote.

I settled for the news, dropping the black remote beside my hip on the couch. In the background, I could vaguely hear the sounds of drawers being opened and his closet door sliding as he rummaged around for something to change into.

"I'll be out in a minute." He lied. Kise always said that, just like Momoi. A minute always equaled five minutes, but I didn't mind. It wasn't like I had anywhere important to go. The scent of Kise's unique cologne lingered through my sense as I hugged a pillow to my chest lazily.

Kise always offered to let me move in with him because he didn't like living in a place so big and empty by himself. I was more than ready to pack up my things and live with him the moment he asked, but I knew for a fact I wouldn't have been able to resist the temptation of crawling into bed and making him mine.

The news anchor's voice became background noise as I lost myself in mindless imagination. Staring up at the high ceiling, I occupied myself with the ever-growing and never-ending fantasy of waking up to him beside me on a weekend. He would wear nothing but one of my buttoned shirts that would hang of his shoulders, his pale skin bare and unhidden beneath my lethargic gaze with dark hickies around his neck and tempting collar bones, hair messy and dishevelled from a night of animalistic lust; his sweet body gliding under our sheets sneakily from his side to mine to kiss me, and there I would force his legs apart, his chest arching into mine as I fuck him so senselessly, he'd be bedridden, and there we would stay for the rest of the day, wrapped up in each other's heat, breathing each other's air.

"Okay, I'm done. What are you watching?" His voice broke me out of my daydreaming. "The news? Really? How boring."

"It is boring, but I was too lazy to go find anything better." I lied. I sat up to see him walk over in a completely different outfit, in his ever-fashionable clothes. His own style suited him more than the stupid formal stuff the school made him wear. I gave him a once over before he turned away to head for the door to put his sneakers on while I frowned.

No matter what he wore, he always had that dumb thing on. It pissed me off and frustrated me at the same time.

"Aominecchi, hurry up!" He said as he finished slipping on his shoes.

I turned off his wide flat screen and strolled over to him. "Yeah, yeah, quit your whining, I'm coming.'"

On his finger he wore a plain gold ring. Sitting on his long finger between his pinky and middle, extravagant and glamorous as he, it was a blatant sign of sorts that screamed to me; he belonged to someone, but she was dead.


	2. Cake, a Movie, and a Dead Girl

**Title:** The Gold on His Finger.  
**Author:** SYNdicate 930.  
**Summary:** AU. On his finger he wore a plain gold ring. Sitting on his long finger between his pinky and middle, extravagant and glamorous as he, it was a blatant sign of sorts that screamed to me; he belonged to someone, but she was dead. Rating might go up.

**Note:** Wah~ Thanks for the nice feedback and for favorite-ing, reviewing, and putting this on alert! I was so nervous about doing first person! Anyway, enjoy! I will try to update every Thursday! (I can't make any promises as of now because of exams coming up OTL)

**Chapter 2: Cake, a Movie, and a Dead Girl. **

Bells chimed as Kise entered a step in front of me, his lips curling upward into a smile as he waved with his right hand. We had just arrived at Yousen, a modest, small bakery-café in the surrounding district near the movie theatre. These streets were closed off to cars, and I never liked how we had to park a few blocks away and then walk into the area because—let's face it—I'm lazy, and it was stupid. Even so, this was one of our favorite places in Tokyo because of its unrivaled peacefulness and surprisingly sweet community. Though as modern as other areas, everybody sort of knew each other here, which was incredulously hard to find nowadays—especially in Tokyo.

We nodded at the familiar faces and workers on our way to our usual spot in the far corner next to a large window that made up a good portion of the wall. Warm sunlight filtered through the spotless glass, making Kise's honey eyes glow extraordinarily as he looked up from under long lashes and the ends of his soft hair, glancing up from the opened and shared menu I paid little to no attention to the menu on the table between us. A smile twisted the corners of his enticing lips to reveal pearly white teeth, his question unheard as I lost myself in the way his voice carried so smoothly, flowing in one ear and out the other as I sat there, most likely in a daze with goofy, day-dreaming eyes.

"Aominecchi?" He carefully poked the hand I had let rest on the table. As always, Kise had to pull me out of whatever world I was in one way or another. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Now, it's fine. I'm just tired from work still." I reassured him. Kise looked at me skeptically, but shrugged it off.

"So what do you want?"

I tried to sound thoughtful, as if I had given all of my attention to the menu and not to him. "I'll just have coffee. I need to stay awake."

"What? When there are all these nice cakes and desserts?" Kise said, motioning to the pretty pictures on the menu of various specialty pastries and sweets Yousen was famous for. "Ne, how about I share some of the cake I'm getting with you?"

I tried to decline, but he was insistent. It was one of his best and worst traits because it ultimately fueled that 'never give up' mindset of his.

Shortly after, one of the workers came by to take our order. He was a few inches short than me, with dark hair that fell over his left eye; the pale skin of his unblemished complexion the plane in which the small beauty mark under his right eye rested as he carried himself in a calm, collected way, a small, pink notepad and mechanical pencil in hand.

"Hi, Himurocchi! Kise beamed up at him and ordered. As usual, Kise ordered a piece of cake and something sweet to drink. When he turned to me, I ordered a coffee, to which Kise pouted at, his lower lip jutting out in an unbelievably endearing manner. He was disappointed I hadn't gotten anything sweet or interesting.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Where's Murasakibaracchi? I didn't see him when I walked in." Kise looks towards the counter, past the cash register. "Did he step out or something?

According to Himuro, Murasakibara wasn't at work that day. He had come down with some sort of flu that had been going around lately, and wasn't able to make it. With the strong immune system I had inherited from my mother and father, I stood completely unaffected from colds and flus, so the mention of sickness made me stop for a second to think of when I was last bedridden with a cold. It sure had been a while. I didn't notice Himuro slip away and then return with our orders.

Cut in a small, long triangle, Kise's cake was covered in white icing and whipped cream with a strawberry on top. It was unbelievably pretty—like something out of an anime. We said our thanks, and Himuro left. I wasn't familiar with Himuro, so I always felt just a little uncomfortable around him. Kise said he went to college with Himuro and Murasakibara, and the three of them were good friends. It was odd, considering the dynamic in that friendship. Kise was so much more out-going and extroverted than the other two.

I drank my coffee quietly as Kise took little bits of his cake at a time, listening to him the way I always did, enjoying the notes in the repertoire of his lively voice, the highs, the lows, and the everything in between.

Kise was half-way through his cake when he brought his fork towards my lips, an expectant quirk of his lips as he encouraged me to have a taste. "C'mon, Aominecchi! It's really good!"

I let him feed me, and we continued talking. I, however, was a little too distracted. My eyes fell to his enticing pair of lips and the way they parted every time he would eat away at his cake, his tongue jutting out in the most teasing manner to lick at any icing, whipped cream smearing the corner of his mouth lewdly; I couldn't focus on what he was saying at all. He pointed it out with a frown.

"What are you looking at? Is there something on my face?" Kise brought up the napkin dispenser to his face, using its reflective surface as a makeshift mirror as he dabbed around his mouth with a napkin.

I never told him what I was staring at.

When we were done eating, we tipped Himuro and Kise wished Murasakibara the best and that he would feel better soon. Himuro nodded.

I can't remember much of the walk towards the cinema. Though, the sky was painted a mixture of orange and blue with the setting sun, street lights slowly turning on one at a time as we sauntered past numerous, young couples. There was nothing like your first, high school love, I would know… Through Satsuki's experience with Tetsu. She hac been so head over heels for him, it was painful to watch her hurt herself.

They say never giving up is the best thing you can do in the face of inevitable defeat—Hah, what bullshit. I watched Satsuki hurt herself over and over because she refused to accept he was incapable of returning her feelings, and helped the little girl I still saw in her broken smile. Don't get me wrong—I tried to help her out, and even drop a few nice things about her here and there whenever Tetsu and I walked home from school together. But it was futile, and I felt guilty every time she would ask me about him. Sometimes I would wonder if she was completely over him.

Watching strangers and the way they would link arms and reach for each other's hand in adolescence chaste, stealing glances at one another in the most blatant of ways, had me restraining myself from doing the same.

In my mind, our fingers would intertwine—grasping his hand tightly within my own under the bright lights of department stores and warm glow of rusty old streetlights, shooting him a reassuring gaze after watching him through the corner of my eye critically—and then I would pull him into a darkened alley. Hidden by the shadows the buildings we find ourselves between provide, I would ravish him; starting from his lips to the most intimate of places; the parts of his body that would make him arch into my torso and bite his lip, a sinful secret deep within the abandoned alley way. Everything between the little strands of his hair that poked out when he woke up first thing in the morning down to his feet would belong to me, and my own to him.

I almost saw it; one of my many fantasies coming true.

Strolling hand in hand, a couple who looked to be in their second or third year of high school struck me as particularly interesting; their hair blonde and a familiar shade of dark blue—I had to shake my eyes to concentrate on them properly, but, by the time my vision focused, they were gone. Swearing my eyes were playing tricks on me, I rubbed at them with the back of my hand.

I had to stop spending so much time daydreaming and wandering about the endless abyss of my mind, drowning myself in the thought of him falling for me as hard as I had for him.

Though, the thought of us as teenagers and meeting then was interesting. If we had met first. I wondered if that would've changed anything.

**—-—-—-—**

I couldn't ignore it even if I had tried.

I had done multiple things to keep myself from staring or making a scene, though, I doubt I was capable of starting anything that wasn't a fist fight. Unlike Kise, who was so prone to the attention of strangers—surely a result of having such a vibrant aura and a face so astonishingly pretty—he was at the point where he was incapable of noticing when people were staring, whispering, or talking about him, I was typically the sort of guy to lie as low as possible, and I stole several glances with a deep frown and furrowed brows without being caught.

It was creepy, but, damnit, I couldn't help myself—for even in the darkness of the theatre, it shined brightly and mockingly in the corner of my eye. No matter how much focus was put towards the movie, my attention found its way back to that stupid ring and the fact he was so in love with someone—someone who wasn't _me_.

It pissed me off. It pissed me off. It pissed me off.

Now, I had accepted this unrequited love to be half of my fault, and half completely out of my control.

For one thing, I never told him, and didn't plan on confessing any time soon. How was he supposed to love me back if he didn't know how I felt, right? Normally, I didn't like to beat around the bush and if I liked you, I would have told you. But, because he was married to his beautiful wife, Alex Garcia, a blonde haired, blue-eyed bombshell that even had me doing double takes on her pictures he'd showed me in his phone he met in high school, long before I'd ever met him, I was left incredibly reluctant. Alex sounded like a wonderful woman and everything Kise wanted—though not the brightest star at night, he had depicted her as sweet, loving, and his high school sweetheart; his wife he'd always love and remain faithful to through and through. I didn't see why Kise was so bent on staying true to her, though. After all, that girl was long dead.

I always believed that if I had met him in high school instead of her, things would have been different, but I guess I would never know.

Kise turns his head and my eyes drop to feign sleep. I waited a good minute or two before slowly opening my eyes. He didn't catch me, and I was safe. I repressed s sigh.

It was common sense that regardless as to how much a person may struggle or suffer there was an indefinite result; a good or bad ending with cruel little twists that added a sharp edge to the already pointed knife, the blow sharper and deep, the unknown positive or negative conclusion, if you will. And I settled for lingering in between struggling and submitting to the world and its cruel, unfair ways—a strange state of helplessness and cluelessness, wallowing around blindly for some answer or map around the obstacle that was Kise's refusal to let her go in masked melancholy.

Death was hard, and it always was.

But time healed all wounds, didn't it? I'd heard something like that from a movie before, but, by the looks of it, there were some things that time couldn't heal.

When our friendship had grown, Kise told me about Alex and how she died the winter before we met. I was surprised at how calmly and plainly he explained to me the way her eyes went lifeless, and her cold hand slipped out of his own.

They'd been skating together on the river that ran through a park just a train ride or two away from his house. Lights and decorations lined the trees and fences as music played on loud speakers, lovers holding hands tightly and some children with their parents.

This happened every year, and it was the year that Alex decided to check it out after years of passing by but never really trying. Kise was never much of a skater, so he had her teach him until he was capable of moving on his own when suddenly, they went too far from the main area and hovered over thin patches they'd been warned about and bam—the ice cracked and he nearly drowned. Kise had tried to save her, Alex unable to swim and in all of her beauty trying to stay afloat, the arms of her jacket frozen and soaked, but it was too late. Alex blacked out and went still.

She was already too far down and the water was too cold when Kise came to his senses and began to reach for her, his limbs freezing over as he cried for assistance, helplessly watching her unconscious body sink deeper and deeper as two men pulled him out. The river was evacuated. Fortunately, they were able to retrieve her body.

That was where his story ended. He never spoke much of her funeral, or what he'd gone through or felt or anything. I tried watching over the boundaries he'd established after I came to learn how sensitive a topic Alex was to him. He never talked about her death, or the time he spent mourning over her much or at all, just the happy moments of when her breath mingled with his and the heat of her body kept him warm on cold nights. It was always all smiles for him. It was only around winter that he would seem to grow more and more introverted. Alex's death pushed and tugged on his emotions in every way., and I'll never forget that one night.

With these thoughts, I became increasingly aware of him sitting beside me and his gentle crunching of popcorn. Taking a few buttery pieces, he would cram them into his mouth at a time, gold eyes glued to the large theatre screen attentively. His breathing was calm, and he would laugh every now and then over something funny, or stupid— the way the leading actor's eyes were 'too far apart.' Though, they were rather distanced when you looked at him at the right angle. Lifting his other hand to reach for his drink on the other side of him, I caught a glimpse of that ring again.

To lose someone dear to you, abruptly while you watch powerless— I could have only imagined what kind of hell it must have been for him. Never too emotional and never quite invested, things came and went in my life, and it'd become normal practice that I never really noticed when people left me. My past lovers were sluts and clingy men I could've sworn were little boys holding onto their beloved mothers in disguise—for all I cared, they could've walked out on me, and I wouldn't have even batted a lash or noticed.

But I guess it was different. After all, these were people I picked up at bars and parties to spend the night with, while Alex was someone Kise cared enough about to marry.

Pretending to jolt awake, I pulled my phone out to check the time. Kise looked over to smile at me. Sipping my pop silently, I was more than just a little annoyed at this. Technically, he was single, but in denial that he no longer had a lover, petulantly rejecting the prospect of even attempting to let go of her.

But, you know what? I liked challenges, and I guessed the first step to winning him over and bringing him out of this miserable state was to tell him how I feel. The only downside was that I didn't like being honest about my feelings. It was stupid, and I wanted to vomit.

Just how does one covey feelings properly, without any misunderstandings, anyway?

I hated where I stood, and I was fed up with this dead-end sort of affection, but I couldn't bring myself to ever telling him truthfully. This one-sided love was my fault because I didn't do anything to make him feel it back. After all, emotions were messy—and I had no intention in creating a mess I couldn't clean myself, or at all.

Names in white print over a black background scrolled down the wide screen slowly with humorous pop music in the background. Silhouettes from the strangers in the rows ahead of us came into view, their arms above their heads as they stretched, heads rolling from shoulder to shoulder in a restless sort of manner that had me doing the same. Kise got up and I followed, speechless and stumbling over my words for I had no clue as to what in the world happened in the movie Kise couldn't shut his trap about. We walked up the stairs of the theatre into the long hallway towards the lobby.

"Ne, what time is it?"

I looked down to my phone. "7:13 PM."

"Huh," He hummed thoughtfully, his eyes flickering around the theatre lobby with his index finger pressed against his lips. "What should we do now? Does Aominecchi wanna go home?"

I played it cool with a yawn. "Kind of."

I was about to invite him over, but, thankfully, my desire to spend more of the evening with him went unnoticed as Kise inquired cheerfully, "Is it okay if I come over?"

It was hard to resist shaking my head free from any sort of double meaning behind such innocent words. He wanted to spend more time with me the same way I would with Tetsu, and nothing more. Though, that didn't stop me from hoping maybe Kise wanted to do a little more than sit around and watch TV for an hour or two. "Why not? You better not drop any more of my plates, though."

"What? That was by accident, I swear! I thought you were over it, you said you weren't mad!"

"I'm not," I retorted truthfully, pushing the cold metal theatre door and holding it out for him. It was too funny to get over. I began to walk towards the exit. "But that doesn't mean it isn't fun to make fun of you for it."

Kise caught up and began to lean his weight against my arm with a whine. "Wow, how mean of Aominecchi! Maybe I'll go straight for your other dishes and break them, too!"

"Oh no, God, save my bowls." Words practically oozing with sarcasm, I snorted.

Back at my apartment, I watched him walk through the unlit hall into my living room and drop lifelessly onto my comfy couch, an arm hanging off the edge of the cushions and his legs hanging on one of the couch arms. "Wah, I'm so tired!"

"Oi, don't fall asleep. I don't want to have to carry you to from the couch to my car and then up the stairs of your apartment." I turned on only the light of the kitchen. The kitchen was open to the living room, and I watched him roll over onto his back lazily to reach for the TV remote.

"Aominecchi is a strong police offer; you should be able to carry me like I'm a feather."

"You have two feet of your own, walk." He always had a tendency of falling asleep here, and then leaving me with the responsibility of carrying him like a little boy and dropping him off home. My ceiling would be the last thing he would see before he passed out, and the sight of the ceiling fan atop the bed at his place would be the first the following morning. I checked the house phone beside the fridge for any missed calls. I had missed one, but, judging by the unfamiliar digits, I guessed it could have only been a wrong number.

"But it's so much fun to baby me like that!"

"What are you talking about? It's only fun for you."

We didn't do anything interesting when we together, really. We just sat around, watched TV, and ate. Moving from the counter to the other couch across the low, wooden coffee table from him, we talked for a little longer before he was unable to keep up with me and resist the urge to fall asleep as we fell silent to watch a marathon of one of our favorite sitcoms together; his blonde eyes slowly shutting, hidden beneath his pale eyelids, long lashes resting just above his cheek.

This was how a typical evening together would go; we would go eat, go out to a movie or walk or do something else, and then return home to hang around at one another's house before one of us returns home. Whenever he came over, I would drive him back to his apartment. I never trusted a face as pretty as his this late at night to go unnoticed.

Moments after Kise had fallen asleep, I fell asleep as well, upright in a sitting position, only to be jolted awake by my cellphone vibrating widely in the back pocket of my jeans. **_LOW BATTERY_** flashed across the small screen. I silently excused myself from the sleeping man to go charge my phone in my bedroom, rethinking the things that went on in my head during the movie.

I was unhappy with where I stood, but I didn't do anything to make things better. If I wanted him, I would have to do something about it.

I would have to think of what I could do some more. Maybe Kagami would know—after all, he was capable of swooning Tetsu. I had known Tetsu all of my life, and I swore that man had no emotions until they met.

When I returned, I was awake as ever, and, while I tried to sit and enjoy the still-going marathon, being in Kise's presence made doing so difficult.

In the darkness weakly illuminated by the flashing screen of my TV, Kise's lips were turned downward in a frown, and his eyebrows were forward. In a state of unconsciousness, unconscious words found their way to the surface. He mumbled words I could barely make out under his breath, low, tired, and difficult to piece together every time he would chop his sentence into little bits at a time. But I could hear the only thing that mattered amongst the incoherent grumbling.

"Alex, 'm s'sorry…" was the apology he gave over and over.


	3. Ready, Set, Go!

**Title:** The Gold on His Finger.  
**Author:** SYNdicate 930.  
**Summary:** AU. On his finger he wore a plain gold ring. Sitting on his long finger between his pinky and middle, extravagant and glamorous as he, it was a blatant sign of sorts that screamed to me; he belonged to someone, but she was dead. Rating might go up.

**Note:** Sorry for the late update and any mistakes! Exams have been stressful "orz. Please review and tell me what you think?

**Chapter 3: ****Ready, Set, Go!**

The following day was spent sitting around at the station doing unfinished paper work to the best of my ability and keeping my poor focus on anything that wasn't Kise. The man ran around my mind's eye incessantly, relentlessly, as if I would forget him the moment I would think of something else. But it was impossible. I couldn't forget him, even if I had ever wanted to. I would hit the eraser end of my pencil against my paper lightly. The noise always put me at ease, and brought me back to my sense. But today felt different. I'd been meaning to talk to Kagami about this, but I was at a loss for words; how would I bring it up? How would I be casual about it? I didn't know.

The tapping of my pencil against my papers was steady and, for the most part, quiet—or, at least I had guessed it was until I had drove Kagami nuts at the desk across from mine. He groaned in frustration. I looked up. Reaching over, he tore the yellow pencil out of my hand and glared down at me, a humorous vein bulging at his temple.

"Will you cut that out?" He breathed with a frown.

I stared up at him flatly, not particularly fazed by the furrow in his oddly shaped brows or irritated scowl resting on his tired face. Slowly reaching for my pencil as he dropped it onto my desk a little more aggressively than necessary, I couldn't help but point it out. "You look like shit."

He fell back to his seat with crossed arms. "Well, you're not the best looking guy out there yourself."

I pointed to my eyes with the eraser of my pencil and he tilted his head.

"But you see, my eye bags aren't so noticeable." Said I. Kagami picked up his cellphone, and flipped it open to stare at his reflection with a low groan. I continued. "You've been looking tired every single day for a while now. What's got you so exhausted and so on edge?"

"Kuroko's been so busy with things lately," He dropped his head into the palm of his hand in a defeated manner. "It's been a while since we've actually, _you know_."

It's almost cute that he doesn't say it. The word is sex. Sex. Sex. Sex.

"And, well—"

"Calm down there, little boy. Just because you graduated earlier and have the intelligence of someone much older than yourself doesn't make your body any older than it isn't."

"Hey!" He shouted defensively, "I'll have you know—"

"I'm so proud, my little boy's all grown up, and he's finally gotten a taste of what _sex_ feels like. Congratulations." I taunted him with an amused snort, watching his cheeks redden. "Man, what I would've given to see you stumble around like the virgin you were a few months before you met Tetsu."

"Why do you make it sound as if you're so much older than me? You're only one year older than me."

"Two." I corrected him. "My birthday is in two months."

"At least I've gotten some. Who knows how long it's been for _you_."

I opened my mouth to say something back, but he had me cornered as he leaned back into his computer chair with a laugh. I will admit to not being the most sexually active man during this period of time but, keep in mind, I was too dead set on a certain blonde, that my eyes were nearly incapable of wandering at all. I wasn't the type to bring random people home to begin with, so it didn't make much sense as to why I had felt so insulted when I really should have been proud of my decision making. Maybe it was my sense of manhood and rivalry we had going on. Everything between us was some sort of competition, and apparently getting laid was one of the things we were trying to beat each other at.

"I'll have you know I've got my eyes on someone already."

"Yeah, good excuse."

It was then that I realized maybe Kagami was the wrong person I should be talking to, especially on the note our conversation had ended on before it was time to clock out. The clock struck two in the afternoon and we began to pack our things. There was someone much better to talk to.

—**-—**—**-—**

"Dai-chan!" Satsuki practically tackled me the moment the door to her apartment opened, but, with the assistance of my (self-proclaimed) inhuman reflexes, speed, and strength, I caught her effortlessly. Her thin arms came around my middle and I held her by her small waist.

I couldn't help but sneer at her a little. "What was that about?"

We stepped into her cozy apartment, and I slipped out of my shoes, still fully dressed in my work uniform, the top three buttons undone to give myself a little more air. I was so thankful for her air conditioning. It always seemed to be much cooler and in better condition than my own.

Sometimes I would come over to visit her in the summer just to lie around on the floor in front of her air conditioning; kind of days like that one, but that wasn't why I went to go visit her. She never seemed to mind too much. Satsuki grew to enjoy my company more and more noticeably now that I was a police officer. Though I was very capable of taking care of myself, she had this preposterous fear that every time I visit it would turn out to be the last time she would see me. It was nice to see she worried over me like that, but it really wasn't necessary; I was very much capable of taking care of myself and fending off bad guys looking for a brawl, so, if anything, I should have been worrying over her.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!" She exclaimed as she held me tightly, her face buried into the front of my uniform.

"Your boobs are making it hard for me to breath."

She let go immediately. "Get out."

Satsuki wasn't a very strong girl. Her strength was as cutesy and pink as the rest of her, so, when she tried to keep me away, I overpowered her greatly. With one hand pressed against the dark metal door she tried to slam in my face, I gave a hard push and sent her tumbling backwards on the welcome mat beside her mahogany coat rack. At this point, she had no choice but to let me stay. And I did.

As tradition, we cracked open a few beers and moved from the kitchen to her comfy couches in the small living room. The layout of her apartment was an exact replica of my own, except flipped around. While my living room stood to my right and my kitchen to my left, Satsuki's living room was to my left and her kitchen to my right. No matter how many times I came over to visit her down the hall, I could never get used to the way her interior was set up. It felt wrong as I turned left instead of right into the living room.

"So, how what brings you here?" She asks lightly, sipping at her beer with a small frown. Beer was never her favorite thing. When we went out to bars, she always ordered those brightly colored, sweeter, sugary drinks with the funny names and almost neon glow to them.

I took a long gulp of my beer, leaning into the couch comfortably while she slouched in the recliner next to me, a leg folded over the other. We had her turned the TV on, but we didn't plan on watching a thing; it was there as more of a means to ease the silence when and if things went quiet than it was to entertain us. "I need advice, and I figured you'd be the best one to go to."

"Oh?" I snorted at the way she continued drinking. I didn't understand why she didn't take the time to make herself something. She was probably trying to get used to it for one reason or another. "What is it? Did you talk to Kagami-kun?"

"He has his own 'problems', so I can't go to him." I smirked. "He's fine, though."

"Then what is it?"

It was then I realized creating a mental game-plan of words and things to say might have been the best choice, but it was too late now; my poor attempt at wording together my feelings would have to do. All I had to do was hope for the best, and that that clever mind of hers that could always decipher whatever gibberish came out of my mouth would understand.

"Fuck." I swore. I couldn't even form gibberish.

Satsuki tilted her head and placed her beer on her coffee table beside the remote. "Hmm?"

"Shit." I muttered. Why did this kind of thing have to be so hard?

Satsuki's face suddenly brightened. It looked like she had an idea. "Let me guess. Does it involve a certain Kise Ryouta?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"So what seems to be the problem?"

"Uh… Well, you see… Fuck…"

"Let me guess again. You want to either know how to get him in bed—" She blushed a little. "—or how to confess to him. Which is it?"

I had to stop and think. The thought of making Kise want to have sex with me in one simple step, thanks to Satsuki, sounded pretty nice, and it would have saved me tons of trouble. She slapped me in the arm. "I was kidding about that." She said knowingly. "I know, and I know how to help."

I looked at her expectantly, her pink lips curling upward slowly, and braced myself for whatever she had in mind. Her advice was always helpful to some extent, but I wasn't so sure if the things that worked for her would work for me.

—**-—**—**-—**

I decided to wait for the weekend before using Satsuki's advice. So, when Saturday morning came rolling around I went over to his apartment feeling a little more anxious than I would have liked to admit, plainly dressed. Sometimes I would feel out of place in my normal clothes because it made me feel weak in comparison to what Kise would wear, but it was much more comfy and way less stuffy. I looked down at myself; a plain v-neck shirt with a hoodie over top, and faded, slightly fitted jeans, though, I will let it be known that they were _nowhere_ near as tight as Kise's.

God _bless_ the creator of those skinny jeans of his.

I walked up to his floor and knocked on his door roughly. Today was going to be special, or, at least it was going to be more or less productive. With Satsuki's help, I would be one or two steps closer to making sure he fell in love with me as hard as I had for him, and I wasn't going to fuck it up. According to her, girls (and Kise) liked to receive compliments, so I made a mental note to compliment him out loud more—which didn't seem all too hard. With a face as pretty as his and body as hot as the one he hides under all his expensive clothes, having nice words thrown at him here and there was something he was used it; nothing was to be all too alarming or out of the blue, even from me.

Satsuki also said that dropping a few hints here and there would be very helpful. Now, this was going to be tricky. Hints, though smaller than an actual confession, were difficult to work with because I wasn't clever at all, and this sort of thing required being clever to some extent. Unlike the sneaky guys on TV who would do romantic gestures that made women wish their husbands were that loving and clever, I was too upfront and direct to do anything of the sort. Being indirect was hard for a straight-forward sort of guy like me. Satsuki mentioned something about body language, but I wasn't paying much attention because I was too busy trying to think of possible signs to send in his direction.

Arriving to his apartment with a boner would have been effective and would have probably gotten the message across, but that was much too crude. I had to scrap it.

I looked at myself through the large window to my right, just a little self-conscious about what I was wearing. It was still simple enough for me, but had been picked out completely by Satsuki. It looked like I had put in more effort than I normally ever did. I hoped Kise would and wouldn't notice.

Suddenly the door opened, and I saw his face. He was smiling. I noticed that his hair was stringy and dripping wet as droplets of water fell onto the short towel around his shoulders and bare chest, rolling down his tempting, muscular skin and abs. His blue jeans were unbuttoned with the rusty colored zipper undone, hanging low around his hips in a manner so enticing, I nearly felt myself pounce but kept still, quickly stuffing my hands into the pockets of my own jeans in case they would wander. He had just gotten out of the shower and boy was I thankful for my timing. If only I had my phone out. That would have been a nice picture to look back at before bed.

Kise stepped to the side and I entered. I saw him look me up and down, and I wondered nervously if I had been that obvious just moments ago. "I like Aominecchi's outfit."

I looked down at myself and then eyed him up and down, meeting his gaze with a charming grin. "I like yours, too."

I really, really did. I always did fancy the image of Kise without clothes on, and the sight of him unprepared with his muscles still glistening and pants barely on was no exception.

I wondered if I was being obvious enough. But I received no answer. Instead, he hit me with an embarrassed expression, and raucous whine. "Eh!? Shut up, Aominecchi!"

"I think you mean to say 'thank you.'" We walked into the kitchen. His kitchen was unbelievably tidy. It practically sparkled as I hopped onto one of the high, cushioned stools at the marble island in the middle, listening to him rummage around in the fridge in front of me while I blatantly ogled his behind when he bent over to pick something off the bottom shelf above the vegetables. Incidentally, he was wearing those tight skinny jeans I had mentioned. When he looked back to check the time on the stove behind me, my head fell and I stared at my lap, texting on the phone I still had in my back pocket, my lower body hidden behind the counter as I 'messaged' Satsuki.

"I might be a while, so make yourself something to eat while I get ready." He instructed warmly as he placed a glass of water in front of me.

Kise reached for the towel around his shoulders and dried his hair a little. Water hit me immediately and I frowned watching him shake his head frantically like a dog caught in the rain. "Oi, you're getting water on me."

He stopped and looked up to see the dark little spots that littered the side of my hoodie. I watched as he giggled, slowly opening his arms to give me a hug, his wet chest pressed against my arm and burying his head into the crook of my neck. The cold feeling from his wet hair was like ice to a fire that was my hot, flustered skin as I felt his every muscle in his upper body clinging to my arm and inhaled the familiar scent of his shampoo and strong body wash—He appealed to every single one of my senses in some form. Something rough and itchy brushed against the knuckles of the hand I had resting on my lap. Looking down immediately, I found the opened fly to his pants rubbing against my hand; his barely covered cock practically begging for my touch as he moved against me innocently.

I was glad he pulled away, for I was sure I wouldn't have been able to hold myself back with him practically throwing himself at me like that. As he stepped away, my eyes fell to the sleeve of my hoodie to find it as wet—if not wetter—than his towel.

I looked at him silently, but he did nothing more than retreat to the bathroom with a hum and hop to his long strides. Without his knowing, I made sure to take my revenge in the form of leaning forwards over the counter to watch him walk way, the sight of those tight jeans enough to make me forgive him for the soaked clothes, but not for all the pent up sexual frustration a little over two years in the making.

—**-—**—**-—**

After taking a train or two, we ended up downtown and, as expected, it was unbearably busy. People pushed and shoved in every possible direction, and I had to shoot a few glares over my shoulder to make sure people gave me and _especially_ Kise some space. Though, even in parts where there seemed to be less people, men and women still crowded around him. I wasn't too bothered by it as they still seemed to keep their distance and minded their business to some extent, but it was still obvious they had their attention on him, and I didn't appreciate the little up-downs a few men gave him. I walked closely, pretending to listen to whatever it was Kise was talking about—I believe it was something pertaining to one of the children in class the previous day— and watched in selfish satisfaction as they backed off immediately. Kise was looking around a lot, but somehow remained clueless to the massive amounts of attentions he was receiving.

"Hmm… What do you think Midorimacchi would like?" He asked me. I gave him a blank look. I had no clue what he was talking about, but he took it as not having any sort of idea. He was looking for something; I could see it in his eyes, but it was hard to tell what it was he was in search of. "His birthday is in a week. We need to think of something!"

"Oh." I had forgotten all about the reason we were out that day.

Midorima was one of my old friends from high school. He always carried himself in a collected and reserved manner. Midorima was always studious and one of the most serious people in my life; I was always surprised as to how we still knew each other even after graduating and going separate ways, but we eventually met up again in university, and, years after, he worked as the doctor the guys back in the station hired.

"Maybe we should ask Takaocchi?"

"He can't keep a secret." I said. "If you want to surprise him, don't tell Takao."

"Fine." Kise's shoulders slumped. "Let's just walk around until we find something that'll interest him."

We walked a lot that day. We walked around a lot in general, actually. It was something the both of us always did; we would go on walks around the park through all types of weather, mall, street—anywhere and everywhere. We were both restless by nature to some sort of extent, our energy ever-lasting and irrepressible, and we would always drain our excess energy in this way. It made conversations flow just a little more, too.

While we wandered around the crowded downtown streets, talking, and scanning as many shops as possible in hopes of finding something Midorima might have been interested in, I had also gone out of my way to drop a few more hints. They went unnoticed. Though it probably wasn't what Satsuki had in mind, I gave her idea little of my own, unique flare and if I wanted to get some sort of message of my interest across, I had to be more obvious about it without compromising or trying to overcome the fact that I was poor with words; no matter what I had said, my words would have never been enough, nor would they have flowed out just the way I wanted them to.

So, having always been an actions over words sort of guy, I grabbed him by his hand, our fingers lacing together in a tight knot, and I, suddenly aware of what I was doing, watched him through my peripheral. I couldn't stand being indirect like this. If I wanted him to want me as bad as I wanted him, I was going to have to kick it up a notch, especially when I took into account how annoyingly dense he was capable of being.

I swore I saw his face light up in a surprised shade of pink; a blush reaching from one side of his face to the other, floating across the bridge of his nose; but that could have been my eyes playing tricks on me.

"A-Aominecchi, what are you doing?" He squirmed uncomfortably, trying to pull his hand free.

I looked to him with a shrug. "Looking for a birthday gift for Midorima."

"Oh, okay." His hand went slack within my own.

I also tried to compliment him more, but he always looked at me suspiciously, with a small squint in his eyes, disbelief spread across his pretty features blatanly. I wasn't sure whether or not to be offended because I really was being sincere. I complimented his skinny jeans, but I had to do a little rewording; after all, I was sure telling him they made his ass look hot would not have been the most appropriate thing to say, especially if I was trying to slowly ease into some sort of confession, and make him reciprocate my feelings.

"Well, did you find anything?" I asked him, our hands still clasped together.

He shook his head. Midorima was one of those people who were impossible to shop for. Not mention he was a doctor and making a better living than Kise and I combined; whatever extravagant present we could have gotten him, he could have bought for himself without any trouble or dent in his wallet. Kise looked up to me with a small pout and I told him I liked his eyes, the sunning hitting them at just the right angle that they glowed; his honey irises deep and warm; loving and sweet as he batted his long lashes in confused blinks. I meant it, but it felt a little strange saying it out loud for once.

We both looked around some more, and that's when I saw it; at the end of the street, 'astrology' and 'lucky' etched on a large sign in front of a modest shop. I had almost forgotten how big of a sucker Midorima was for these kinds of things, even with that dumb degree of his. It was the same degree Kagami could have gotten, or at least that's what I liked to think. I pointed the store out to Kise, and he agreed with me immediately.

I swore I felt him try to pull away, but I held on tightly. I wasn't letting go of him—not by a long shot.


	4. Spend the Night

** Title:** The Gold on His Finger.  
**Author:** SYNdicate 930.  
**Summary:** AU. On his finger he wore a plain gold ring. Sitting on his long finger between his pinky and middle, extravagant and glamorous as he, it was a blatant sign of sorts that screamed to me; he belonged to someone, but she was dead. Rating might go up.

**Note:** Just a short chapter to say I might be putting this on hiatus? Not a lot of people seem to be liking it, so I'll just put this on hold on focus on some fics I haven't updated in a while (aka, my **Hetalia fics**). I might update this along with **BFFs**, but, eh, whatevs. Thanks to the people who are enjoying this, though? c:

**Chapter 4: Spend the Night. **

Shiny metal bells rung as I pushed through the heavy glass door covered in local ads and posters for upcoming events, and other promotional-type things. They swung against the glass gently, letting out a soft harmony. Though, it appeared as though one of them was broken and unable to create a proper sound. If the stupid music lessons my mother had put me through taught me anything, it was that they sung together in minor.

Behind a lit glass counter with little knick knacks on display ranging from weird piercings and bracelets to 'charms' and incense, a tall man with brown hair sat scrolling down his laptop. He looked away from his brightly lit screen to greet us with a friendly smile the moment we step in. Kise smiled back at him as I nodded.

There was a warm sort of aura to him, and the way he asked us how we we're doing, and if we were looking for anything in particular—even going as far as to introduce himself—made me feel like this was one of those sort of places that did not have many customers, but a few that came regularly. It was exactly how I imagined a little hole in the wall to look like.

Kise and I looked around the front of the store together. It appeared as though Kise had grown used to my hand over his own because he began to lean against me as he glanced over at a shelf, his arm pressing against mine as his head tilted to rest upon my shoulder. I stepped to the side and he stumbled a little with a yelp. Kise turned to me with furrowed brows and a little pout, an embarrassed flush against his pale face that shown a strange color of barely noticeable blue under the lights overhead.

Feeling a little daring, I leaned forwards to press my lips to his, an action which was meant unintentionally and to appear and be taken as a joke, but held more desire than I had expected for I had nearly forgotten to pull away if it weren't for the jolt of his head and nervous squeal that left his lips the moment he stepped back. "W-What's Aominecchi trying to do?" He stuttered out, eyes large and surprised, brows furrowed in confusion.

I didn't know what to say as even I had no idea, so I played it cool. "You were pouting. It looked like you wanted a kiss."

"Huh? Aominecchi's being weird! That doesn't mean I want a k-kiss!" We continued to look around the eccentric merchandise near the entrance, our fingers still interlocked; his fingers hung loosely within my possessive hold. I was irked by the fact that he didn't hold my hand back, but there wasn't much I could have done to change that.

Something caught Kise's attention, so I let go of him. The store wasn't very big. It was longer than it was wide, though, and he disappeared somewhere towards the back while I took a longer look around the front some more.

There were lots of things about luck around the store. Little charms were everywhere and scrolls hung around me with various words written—some were in kanji I could only assume were Chinese characters we did not use—there was so much, it had my head spinning round and round just trying to take it all in.

I wasn't certain whether or not this was an act out genuine sincerity or pity as he could no longer stand watching me roam around without a batshit clue, and no apparent idea as to what I was doing, but the man behind the counter stood up from his chair to offer me a smile as I stood before a bookshelf beside the clear glass. I was a little taken aback by how welcoming and friendly he was. Store workers tended to ignore scary looking guys like me. Kise was always the one given the attention.

"Looking for anything specific?" He asked me, eyes drifting towards the astrology books I had been standing in front of. "I'm guessing you're interested in astrological signs and all that?"

I shook my head and stepped over towards the counter, hands in my pockets. Kise was still somewhere in the back doing God knows what. "I'm looking for something to get my friend. His birthday is coming up. I'm not sure what to get him."

"That's nice of you. Does he really like astrology?"

I half-shrugged. "I think. I'm not sure to be honest. He says he's a Cancer…" I trailed off in uncertainty. I didn't want to look like a fool who did not know what he was talking about, but, judging by the way he hadn't done or said anything to correct me, I guessed I'd said something right. "He's really religious when it comes to luck, too."

"Hmm… So astrology and luck, huh?" He then proceeded to speak about all the sort of things in the store that might interest Midorima, but I was much too confused to remember anything other than the fact that his name was Kiyoshi Teppei, and that incense were apparently on sale because he'd accidentally ordered more than he had meant to.

It was difficult trying to weed out something Midorima would not want to immediately trash, especially with Kiyoshi distracting me with his constant talking and going off on irrelevant tangents, so I settled for a small lucky charm he could tie onto his cellphone, and lucky book for Cancer. I guessed that I had to go shop a little more for him to balance these small gifts with something bigger. When Kiyoshi rung me up, he smiled, asking if I needed anything else.

I shook my head and took the orange and white bag from his hand as he went to reach for my receipt. "No, I think I'm good. Thanks."

"Do you like incense?" I shrugged. "Here, take a look at these. You can have three packs for free."

He pulled out a box full of small incense boxes. Each were in different colored boxes and possessed odd scents. "I thought they were on sale?"

"And now they're free with any purchase," He smiled. "I need to get rid of them somehow, and I thought maybe some might interest you?"

I wasn't sure how to go about this. I'd only ever been around incense at temples and traditional sort of settings. Momoi would sometimes light sweet, perfume-like incense around her apartment just for the fruity smell, but I was never one to do that kind of thing. Though, it did make her home smell very nice, so I decided to take a little sniff of each he offered to see which appealed to me the most. It didn't hurt to try new things, and if I did not like it later one, there was always Momoi to dump them onto. She was sure to love them.

"Single?"

I looked up from a dark, dull green colored incense box I had sniffed at. It smelled like ginseng. "Excuse me?"

"The guy with the blonde hair," Kiyoshi motioned towards Kise, who was flipping through a small red book. Turning back to Kiyoshi, I narrowed my eyes at him. "I saw you guys walk in and hug. Are you two dating?"

"Why?"

I must have come off defensive, for he raised his as if at gunpoint. Regardless, his lips remained curled upward and retained his mirthful demeanor. "I didn't mean it like that. If you two aren't, take these ones." He put his arms down and began to rummage through the large cardboard box. He began lifting up small incense boxes and reading them before handing me one.

A faded red box came into view with a circular plastic window that revealed light pink incense. The box was a little dusty looking, but by all means new and the top and bottom appeared to be unopened, though, this didn't last for long as Kiyoshi gently opened the lid at the top to pull out one of the sticks. He held it out to me, as if to offer a quick whiff. I looked at Kiyoshi reluctantly, but he motioned towards the pink stick encouragingly; he poked my cheek, but that did nothing but irritate me.

I breathed in slowly regardless and was greeted with a light, floral sort of aroma that reminded of the garden Satsuki's mother had when we were still young; the right amount of nostalgia, with just enough of something I couldn't quite point my finger at; something unfamiliar, something new. It wasn't the best thing I had ever smelled, but it wasn't bad either. I gave it six out of ten.

"Do you like it?"

"It's okay."

"They say that when two people inhale this together, they'll fall in love." My eyes narrowed at the thought of something so unbelievably quizzical. Was he mocking me? "If you two aren't together, you can always try it. What's there to lose?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I refused to believe he was able to read me this easily.

"He'll come around sooner or later," He dropped three packages of the floral incense into my shopping bag. "This'll help speed things up."

"I really don't know what you're talking about—"

"Good luck." Kiyoshi patted me on the shoulder with an encouraging smile.

—**-—**—**-—**

We did a little grocery shopping after we left Kiyoshi's shop, and Kise took the liberty of placing the food in the fridge and the snacks in the pantry, while I put away Midorima's gifts in my room and took a moment to use the bathroom. I loved the way Kise was so familiar in my apartment; it was like we were lovers already living together.

"Eh? What's Aominecchi doing?" There was the sound of plastic bags rustling and his fast-paced footsteps making their way into the living room behind me. When I was done using the bathroom, I washed my hands and made my way through the living room onto the balcony.

The sun had just finished setting, and the otherwise dark night was illuminated by the orange glow of streetlights and the pale light of the moon. The dark sky was clear, and there weren't very many stars to be seen. There were a few I saw when I squinted my eyes, though. However, I had assumed those were just airplanes passing by.

Crotched down on the floor of my balcony, I had just finished lighting the little end of my newly acquired incense and was presently watching thin smoke rise from it. I had decided to test this out on the balcony before bringing it indoors in case I grew to dislike the flowery scent. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't the very best, so it wouldn't have taken much for the scales to tip and for me to grow to hate it.

According to Kiyoshi, both people were to inhale together for it to work, so Kise couldn't have showed up at a better time. Truthfully, I felt foolish for believing in such a thing, but beggars can't be choosers, right?

Stepping onto the breezy balcony, he crouched down beside me with his hands on his knees as he stared at the incense curiously, hair blowing softly in the night air. "Eh? What's this for?" He asked.

"The guy at the store was giving them for free. These are just for scent purposes, though." I half-lied.

"Ah." I watched him breathe it in slowly, his eyes closing to focus on the light aroma. One of the things I liked most about him was how vulnerable he was capable of being around me because it really showed how comfortable he was with me, which was ultimately one of the things needed for a relationship to turn romantic, right? Because Hell if I knew.

When he breathed in, I breathed in. When he breathed out, I breathed out. We repeated this three times without him knowing, stopping only when he opened his eyes.

"It's nice." There was a peaceful tone to his sing-song voice, and he inhaled deeply once again as I watched him through my peripheral. "It's actually _really_ nice."

"Really? You actually like it?"

"Hmm?" He turned to look at me with a tilt to his head. "What's wrong with it?"

I shrugged. "It's a little too… Old lady for me."

We shared a quick look before laughing at my odd phrasing, and got up to return inside. Trailing a step behind him, we left the balcony door open. Though I wasn't as in love with the smell as he was, we let the incense flow in with every warm breeze and shift in the gentle summer winds.

Luckily for us, we were able to figure out what to buy for Midorima. After calling up Takao, we came to an agreement that Kise and I would be responsible for bringing the cake to make up for our poor shopping ability, which was odd considering how much of a shopper Kise was. Sitting on the living room floor, leaning against the couches across from each other, we tried deciding what sort of cake to bring for him. Because we were in charge, we had decided that it would have to be something amusing with just a hint of stupidity to bring it all together and to get on Midorima's nerves just a little. After all, nothing said 'from Aomine and Kise' the best like something that was sure to make his eyes twitch.

There were many things that would have done the trick, like ordering a cake in the shape of a pair of glasses or buy a plain cake and attempt to create his face with icing and sprinkles, the former Kise's idea, and the latter my own. We called it a night the moment our ideas got too out of hand. I can't quite remember what else we hand in mind, but they were so unconventional and strange, that it had us laughing at their absurdity on the floor holding our stomachs, tears in the corners of our eyes. In the end, we reverted to our usual night-activity of watching TV together until it was time to drop him off.

Before we knew it, the clock struck midnight and Cinderella sitting across from me was starting to grow tired; a yawn to his hand, and a few tired rubs at his weary eyes; Kise's tell-tale signs of exhaustion as he slumped into the couch, blinking rapidly as if to keep awake while we watched a movie on the basic cable channel. Curling up to lay tiredly on his side, Kise used his hands as a pillow.

Lying on my own couch opposite with my legs stretched out in front of me, I looked past the television into the dark sky outdoors. I too was feeling a little tired myself, and it appeared as though Cinderella's carriage just turned into a pumpkin for I was not up to drive him back to his house at that point.

Getting up, I raised my hands over my head and stretched, making my way past the television to close the balcony door. Kise stared up at me and grinned tiredly, eyes half-lidded in a sleepy-haze. "Ne, Aominecchi, can I sleep over? I don't want to make you drop me off at this hour since you've been doing that for me so much lately."

I quirked an eyebrow; what a suggestive thing to ask. I nodded. "Sure."

Kise got onto his feet and dragged himself down the hall past me to retrieve spare blankets so he can sleep on the couch. He sauntered by and rummaged through the closet in an endearing sort of familiarity as this was not the first time he would be spending the night, though, I was suddenly bent on making sure it was the first night he was not to sleep on that beat up old couch of mine.

Following him as he stood in the closet, looking up, down, left and right for my spare blankets, I snuck up from behind, tip-toeing ever so slightly to silence my footsteps, and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind. I rested my chin in the crook of his neck and felt his muscles stiffen as he squealed in surprise; he turned to look at me, and I fixed my eyes on the shelves in front of us. Even_ I_ didn't know where I kept the blankets.

I felt his head turn away to look at me strangely, but ignored it. Kise was the type to play along if things seemed okay, so if I acted casual, I was sure that he would adjust himself to the intimate atmosphere.

"There they are," I pointed to the fourth shelf from the top on my left. He looked over the other way, and I stop him when he made a move to reach for the white sheets that weren't there. "Just kidding."

"Eh? Then where are they?"

I stepped back and he turned around to face me. He looked so vulnerable under the dim light bulb that hung above us, dangling slowly, backwards then forwards, eyes a brilliant gold despite the exhaustion that formed dark bags below his lower lashes. I was too tired to pay my actions or the way I seemingly gravitated towards him slowly any mind and, before I knew it, Kise was left backed up against the shelf behind him and a few inches barely separated us. I wanted all of him, and the temptation had begun to get the best of me.

"A-Aominecchi, you're getting really close, you know."

I was brought to my sense the instant he brought his hands to my chest to distance myself from him, and, in that moment, I vaguely wondered if those incense were working, because the only way out of that was if he were to suddenly submit himself to me. He sounded nervous as he breathed out, "What are you doing—"

My body reacted on its own, and I reached upward to grab the blankets folded neatly on the shelf just above his head. I moved backwards to give him some space and held it out in front of me, "Got them."

We filed out of the closet and he pulled the little cord to turn off the light before closing the white door behind us. There was an uncomfortable moment of silence, and we stood there, looking everywhere but at each other as I cursed myself for going just a tad too far wordlessly. Hopefully it wasn't in vain, because I realized that he hadn't pushed my away, but simply placed his hands to my chest. No, no, I was thinking too far, and nothing good was to come from such a thing.

As always, I kept my cool and played my usual, indifferent self, pretending wasn't anywhere near uncomfortable as he was. Suddenly, there was a friendly punch to my shoulder and a nervous fit of laughter, "H-Hahaha, stupid Aominecchi doing weird things as always," The yawn that left his lips sounded forced, as if trying to remain casual, but that might've just been me. "I guess it's time to hit the hay. I'll just go lie on the couch now—"

"Ne, Kise, you shouldn't sleep on the couch. It's so uncomfortable." Instead of doing things on impulse, I was saying things on impulse now.

"Eh? Is Aominecchi offering to switch with me?" He tilted his head to the left, a smile breaking out across his tired features, lopsided but loveable in its own way. Too bad he was wrong.

"What I'm trying to say is why don't you sleep with me?"

I wondered if this 'hint' was too much because his face dropped, and he shouted a loud 'what!?' at me; his face darkening a familiar shade of red I associated with Kagami. But, come to think of it, through all the yelling, I didn't hear a 'no'.


End file.
